


For An Agent

by shalbores



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shalbores/pseuds/shalbores
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Whatever.." Grant was taken aback by the obvious falling intonation of his voice. And of course, Skye noticed it, too. He couldn't call her by her last name because he didn't have a clue as to what it was – as to who she was. </p>
<p>".. Skye." Grant trailed. </p>
<p>Skye X Ward<br/>Rated T for now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**For An Agent - Chapter 1**

Grant couldn't stand it any longer. Skye had been droning about something he couldn't get so he finally demanded for an answer.

"Just  _what_ is it that you've actually been whispering about to yourself for the past ten minutes?" he looked up from his computer, brown eyes locking with brown.

Skye's murmurs grew progressively louder until it was audible enough for Grant.

"… and that I needed a heart-stopping encounter with a Peruvian rebel force to actually notice how unclean your shirt is. Ever heard of the washing machine? It's been around since the eighteen hundreds," she uttered mockingly, formed a wry smile, and added "For an agent, you could do better."

"And for a hacker, you're doing a wonderful job poking your nose in everybody's business," Grant shook his head and turned back to the screen.

Skye chuckled. "Seriously, though. You should get that washed."

"Again, everybody's business," Grant answered with the same vocal intensity.

"You're bleeding through."

"That's nothing. It'll stop. Besides, I'm not someone who cries over stained shirts."

"Yeah? QNB-T16? Remember? Masking your pain in front of beautiful women because you think it makes you seem more masculine. Ha-ha."

Grant shook his head and returned a sardonic grin.

"GRAMSY," Skye imitated his words after he was shot with the truth serum.

"Be quiet."

"Whatever, Ward," she scoffed.

"Whatever.." Grant was taken aback by the obvious falling intonation of his voice. And of course, Skye noticed it, too.

He couldn't call her by her last name because he didn't have a clue as to what it was – as to  _who_  she was.

".. Skye." Grant trailed.

She blinked and smiled an sweet, honest smile. "Maybe next time, Ward."

"Yeah. Maybe next time."


	2. Chapter 2

**For An Agent – Chapter 2**

_Skye's POV_

"Ward!" I cried to get his attention, knowing how much it bugged him, "Could you pass me a mug from the cupboard?"

He did, but he also didn't fail to glare at me.

"Thank you, Ward," I said with a blank face, yet again calling him by his last name. My gaming mood was probably caused by my excitement in the bus' pantry. It was huge. Very welcoming, too. The walls were painted light beige with a hint of yellow, the perfect color combination of a break room.

"Please." I didn't get what he was trying to say.

"Please what?"

"I mean  _pleased_ ," Grant snapped and went back to cleaning his gun.

" _Pleased?_ By handing me the mug?"

He was obviously not his happy-agent self.

"I'm going to the range," he muttered, but I managed to understand clearly.

He just left.  _Weirdo._

Not long after Grant was gone, Leo came in and rummaged through the fridge.

He broke the semi-awkward silence.

"G'morning," he spoke with his accent.

"Hey," I smiled at him even though he was still looking for something in the freezer.

"Ward seems to be hotheaded today. What did you tell him this time, Skye?" he turned to me with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Me?" I raised a brow, "Why do you and Agent May always assume it's me?"

"Well, out of the less than ten people on this airbus, one being busy flying it, one me, who's sure I'm not the cause of Ward's irritation right now, one who's always in the laboratory, and one boss, I highly doubt it was any of them."

"So you therefore conclude it was me? I think you're stuck in step two of the scientific method. Gathering information, right?" I said in jest and gave let out a chuckle.

"Alright," he put his hands up in defeat, a jar of pickles now noticeably in between his left arm and his torso.

_Such a ravenous guy._

He was about to leave when I struck up another conversation.

"Hey, Fitz," he turned around to look.

"Yeah?"

"Technically, you're  _Agent_   _Fitz_ , right?"

"Mhm," he mumbled, already halfway on finishing a toast'em.

I thought the way he replied was adorable.

"Uhm.. so.. " I hesitated.

He just kept silent and waited.

"If by any chance I were to get into this agency, what do you think they'd call me?"

"Agent Sk.. oh. That," Leo seemed at ease with answering. He didn't look at the very least bothered when we were talking about last names so why was Grant so upset? "I guess they'd call you Agent Skye."

"Funny," I whispered under my breath.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing."

I still couldn't determine at that moment why Grant Ward always gave the impression of being so distressed whenever my name was brought up. At the back of my mind I thought I had a tiny clue, but then again it was way too early for that.


	3. Chapter 3

**For An Agent – Chapter 3**

_Skye's POV_

_One of the rare times I have my life on the line, and I'm with Ward again. I don't know why, but I think someone up there must be playing with me._

"Now again, SLOWLY," he said, emphasizing the word 'slowly', "What's first?"

I sighed; exasperated because this was probably the hundredth time we've gone through this short taking-a-gun routine, but still, I pushed his arm up and positioned myself in front of him so he was facing my back.

_He might've not noticed, but my heart pounded a little harder considering the position I was in. I mean, I could practically feel his abdominals with my back._

"And then?" he added, snapping me back from my thoughts.

"And then, things are moving too quickly I'm-a-proper-Southern-girl, you'll make me untidy," I said in reply. It was sort of true, though. Even after many repetitions of the turning and everything, I still got by very badly.

"Twist the thumb, palm the barrel," he said bitterly.  _I think I pissed him off._

Of course, again, we got into a brief argument. He was saying something about memorizing muscles and fundamentals.

"CS comes naturally to me. I'm sorry I'm not naturally whatever you are," I retorted.

"You think this came naturally?" he took what seemed like a lot of steps closer and spoke again, "I had a brother who beat the crap out of me. Me and my little brother," the proximity at the time was overwhelming.

_That was when I noticed his brown irises. They were intense, as if he were actually telling the truth. I was sure he was only saying it to motivate me to do better in 'training'._

"I had to learn to protect us, the way I am trying to protect you,"  _More words._

"That was my moment. You asked,"  _Words._

"Sorry," I said partly sympathetically.  _Word._  I had to give him credit for his acting. "Didn't mean to push... But I did manage to take this," I held the gun up and smirked.

_And so sparked the commencement of training._

* * *

"SHIELD. They prey on fear and loneliness and desperation and they offer a home to those who have no one else to turn to. I can offer you something better," Ian Quinn said in an obvious effort to spur my mind.

_I think I handled Quinn well. Even with a gun pointed against my head. And him comparing SHIELD to Big Brother. And me… well, making a Grant Ward reference._

"But they're the nice big brother who stands up for his helpless little brother when he's getting beat up because he ate a piece of cake that he wasn't…"  _And that was when I regretted that I didn't believe in Grant the first time._

_Now, it took a gun up to my head to notice that he was the person stuck in my mind at the face of death. The movies always say that before dying, your whole life and everything important to you flashes before your eyes. SHIELD did. Grant Ward did. I guess he's sort of important to me._

"But do you have what it takes to pull the trigger?" Quinn challenged.

"Nope."

_Running from three men with guns was probably one of the scariest moments in my life, next to Peru and Centipede. And I've never been so desperate for the support of another human being. That was why it took too much of my self control to not burrow myself into Grant's chest after he mugged the guys that were trying to take me._

* * *

_It was surprisingly easy to open up to him about my past – the third time I embraced frustration regarding family._

_That boy from Massachusetts, he held my hand and led me home._


	4. Chapter 4

**For An Agent – Chapter 4**

_Skye's POV_

_I writhed, struggling to get up, my lungs almost giving up as I desperately tried to grasp for air. After that beating the three men had given me, I felt my ribs tightening against my lungs but I was going to try to make it back to the bus._

_The gravel stuck to my already bloody forehead which made me cry out. I struggled into a sitting position. My head was spinning, and my perfect eyesight didn't seem perfect at all. I shook my head, trying to clear my vision as my ears rang._

_And then I felt it. Just barely. The slightest motion of the ground underneath me._

_My throat tightened. I looked up to the horizon, ignoring both the agonizing pain in my neck and the bright sun roaring down upon my already baked skin. There was a dark gray cloud brewing at the edge, as far as my blurry vision could see but I knew this was no cloud. I could already see them in my mind - the three burly men carrying bludgeons and a knife, I think._

_That was when the realization really hit me- they were back for more. Grant was just beside me, motionless and while I prayed for him to rise from the floor that he'd been so busy lying dead in, the sound of footsteps became amplified in my ears until the noise bounced around the insides of my skull._

_I opened my eyes and barely felt the probably last stale breath of Grant Ward against my face before I completely blacked out._

"Shit!" I shouted, my eyes shooting wide open only to realize that I was in the van by the ramp. My laptop, as of then, had been on standby for about five or so hours as the heat radiating from its surface denoted.

Beads of sweat ran down my face so I rolled down the windshield beside me. In the corner of my eye, I saw Simmons pace towards the vehicle from where she stood in the laboratory.

"You alright there, Skye? I thought I heard you swear through the gauge," she asked, concern evident in her tone.

"I'm good," I told her and said it again for reassurance.

"Looking a tad pale for 'good'," she smiled.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna grab a drink and officially crash, thank you," I replied with pretentious enthusiasm and dismounted the van.

The climb up the stairs seemed somewhat exhausting considering the nightmare that had just haunted me.

I strode to the pantry, passing by Ward's cell, noticing he wasn't there. Again, my heart raced to the thought of losing anyone from the closest thing that was family. I've only been with them for about a month but it feels as if this is where I really belong. Especially after what happened with Miles.

I reached the fridge, probing its contents, finding milk, juice, something that was presumably Fitz's leftover, and a crapload of alcohol.

I poured myself a glass and settled by the dining table.

It had been quiet for a few good minutes and the vodka had just started to reach my head when somebody slid the door open. I looked up to see Agent May.

"Uhh, hi," I said, breaking the awkwardness and making an effort to draw my lids away from her gaze because I knew my eyes always turned red when I drank. But then again, I thought she would notice one way or another that I was slightly inebriated.

"You're drinking. Should I be concerned?" she said impassively while she took a bottle of water from the fridge.

I never knew why, but there was always this irrational fear seeing Agent May wander the bus. I mean, she  _is_  the pilot, and pilots are supposed to fly the plane. I guess I associated pilots with flying so in the back of my head - no pilots, no flying. Which means crashing and dying a tragic death.

"No, ma'am. Just wishing for a deep, dreamless sleep tonight," I replied.

"Everybody wants that. But you can't always get what you want, right?" she answered coldly.

"Maybe if you work hard enough… like I'm going to do to earn back your trust."

She was leaving the room when I noticed a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.  _The rare times you see Agent May smile and it's probably a sham._

One thing was on my mind. Never would I want to lose these people.


End file.
